Devil you Know
by avalanches
Summary: Devin Hayward used to have dreams about being a cutting-edge journalist until she got stuck writing in the Home and Style section of the New York Bulletin. She's determined to write about things that matter, which is the only logical reason she follows a group of bank robbers in the hopes of seeing the Devil of Hell's Kitchen in action. (Matt/OC).
1. One

Hello lovely readers! I have fallen into a hole of Netflix Marvel and I cannot get out, which is most definitely why this resulted in my two week binge watching and this fanfiction is the end product! I haven't seen a TON of Matt fics around (there's definitely some, don't get me wrong) but I thought I'd like to put my own spin on a Matt Murdock fanfiction. I hope you all enjoy it, and without further ado, here is Devil You Know! Let me know what you think about the first chapter!

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If Devin Hayward's life could be summed up in about three words, those words would unequivocally be _a goddamn mess_.

A half-eaten bagel spread with a hearty amount of cream cheese innocently graced the space next to a keyboard that was so old, it clicked with each press of a key. Papers were littered across the rest of the space the bagel and keyboard _weren't_ taking up. Some could call Devin Hayward's workspace messy, but Devin preferred to think of it as an organized mess. She knew exactly where everything was. Except for the one statement from a tenant in her apartment building on forty-third street, which happened to be the one statement she needed to finish up the article Ellison was on her ass about. Naturally, she could find the half-assed article she had written about tensions between the newly deconstructed S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Hydra agents that still seemed to be lingering around the United States, but that wasn't what Ellison wanted from her. He wanted the fluffy Home and Style article he had assigned, the critical debate over hardwood floors and "wood-looking" tile. He wanted statements and opinions on the two finishes. Opinions that Devin had gathered from her own apartment building that had seemed to go missing in the time span she had eaten half her bagel and gotten a refill of coffee from the shitty machine in the break room.

Devin's life hadn't always been a goddamn mess. But that was _Before_ Devin. Looking through her life chronologically, most things could be categorized into _Before_ Devin and _After_ Devin. _Before_ Devin had possessed the stereotypical Manhattan childhood, with a mother and father and their fancy apartment in the Upper East Side. She'd gone to a prep school, had French lessons every Friday at one o'clock on the dot, and had plans to go to follow in her father's footsteps and attend Cornell University for a doctorate in Liberal Studies. _After_ Devin had been dirt poor after the scandalizing divorce between her mother and father in which he won everything except for custody. _After_ Devin had to cope with the fact that her mother had developed tumors in her inner ears (a condition called Neurofibromatosis 2 which _After_ Devin had searched on several medical websites) and had gone nearly eighty percent deaf. And _After_ Devin had refused any financial help from her father when the time for college did roll around, which left her with a Masters in Communications from Brooklyn College and a job at New York Bulletin fresh out of college.

And instead of writing the cutting-edge news she thought she would be reporting and was so eager to report in college, she was writing about the case for real hardwood floors versus tile that looked like wood.

Angrily ripping off another piece of her bagel, Devin shoved it in her mouth and frustratingly ran her fingers through her hair, which was already past the point of falling out of the careful ponytail she had constructed that morning and had half of it hanging around her chin. The article technically wasn't due for another two days, but Devin was determined to prove herself as a valued journalist for the Bulletin and prove to Ellison that he could trust her with more substantial stories like he did with people like Ben Urich and Jennifer Many. And that was something she couldn't prove if she didn't find the goddamned statements from her neighbors. Huffing out another breath, Devin flung herself back into her chair at her desk and angrily clicked out couple of keys on her keyboard, listening to the little clicking that accompanied. The sound of clicking keys always calmed her down. This time was no different. Devin sighed and clicked a couple more random keys, watching as they constructed words of gibberish on her computer screen before she backspaced all of them and watched them disappear.

The small chiming of her phone distracted her from the blank screen in front of her. She moved the pile of papers she knew were currently resting on her phone and picked up the small device, looking at the words painted across the screen.

 **Mom** : _I'm heading to those lawyers Brett referred me to_

Devin let out a curse and quickly typed back a reply consisting of phrases like " _why didn't you tell me you were going_ " and " _I'll be right there_ " before she clicked the monitor of her computer off, pushing back on her chair and grabbing her jacket from the back of it. Her purse had been discarded somewhere on the floor by her desk, so she blindly felt around until she had the strap gripped in her hand and swung it over her shoulder. When she stood up from her seat, her feet groaned at the thought of having to try and catch a taxi in her heels, but she ignored them and pushed on. "Ellison, I'm heading out for the day," she called out, waving a goodbye. He sputtered something unintelligible that she didn't pay attention to before she was making her way out of the Bulletin and towards the street, arm already outstretched to try and get a taxi. She hated when her mother did things like this. While her mother claimed that being deaf didn't make things difficult, Devin knew that going to meet a lawyer with no actual way of being able to hear them properly and not having someone to translate with sign language was a little more difficult than her mother was making it out to be. And this meeting wasn't something to take lightly. Devin huffed annoyingly when a taxi pulled up next to her, four precious minutes already having been wasted trying to wait for one.

"You know where Nelson and Murdock Law Offices are?" Devin asked exasperatedly once she had flung herself into the taxi and slammed the door shut behind her. The taxi driver simply turned and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, didn't think so. The deli on forty-ninth and tenth?" To that, the driver nodded and turned back around in his seat, checking his surroundings before pulling out into the busy New York street. Devin took the silence of the seven-minute drive to text her mother, adding in phrases like " _what were you going to do when you walked in_ " and "t _his is something we need to take seriously_ " to her previous texts. Her messages got no response. Devin wasn't exactly surprised, since her mother liked to do things independently and would find Devin's texts _babying_ , but she still would have appreciated a response. Momentarily shoving her phone in her purse, Devin got her cash ready for when the taxi driver pulled up to the deli, reaching forward and handing it to him. The New York air was cool but not freezing when she got out of the cab and adjusted her annoying pencil skirt, moving towards the crosswalk button next to the deli she'd been dropped off at. She could see the tiny building across the street, the dingy little place her mother had sent her the address to.

It didn't look like much as Devin approached it, and they didn't even have a sign hanging outside of the building to let people know this was their law office. She briefly wondered just who Brett had recommended to her mother, but she felt her body going through the motions of opening the door and walking up the set of stairs that led to the law offices of Nelson and Murdock. Her feet were cramping in her heels by the time she made it all the way up the stairs, tempting her to take the damned shoes off and throw them out the window of Nelson and Murdock's window, but before she could even fully consider the idea the door to the law office was opening and a pretty blonde woman was stepping out, what looked like a lunch order in her hands. She stopped at the sight of Devin, letting a confused but polite smile grace her mouth. "Hi. Nelson and Murdock are actually with a client right now, but you can go inside and wait if you'd like."

"Yeah, they're in there with my mother," Devin muttered. "Thanks for the help," she managed to say, remembering the simplest of manners as she pushed the door open and walked into the office space. It wasn't much. Her first impression of the law office hadn't been incorrect in that sense. There was a desk in the front that Devin assumed belonged to the woman on the other side of the door Devin had just closed. There was a copier and fax machine that looked ancient pressed against a small corner of the room that a table occupied. Devin looked to her left and saw her mother beginning to sit down with what must have been Nelson and Murdock; losing all sense of diplomacy and polite mannerisms, Devin marched into the office and angrily glared at her mother, unbothered by the shocked looks on the two lawyers' faces.

"Um, excuse me, but we're with a client and you'll have to wait outside." Devin surveyed the one who had spoken. He had dirty blonde hair down to almost his shoulders, which skirted on too long for his profession. Not that Devin particularly cared. As long as he could help her mother, she was fine with however he wanted to present himself (which was a lie if she admitted it to herself, because she'd expect a lawyer to have a certain degree of professionalism, but that didn't matter at the moment). However, in order to help her mother, he had to be able to communicate with her mother, which would be hard considering she wouldn't be able to hear anything Nelson and Murdock told her and wouldn't understand without a proper translator.

"Yeah, you won't get very far into conversation with her," Devin mumbled, yanking out a chair at the desk and turning angrily to her mother. Raising her hands so her mother could see clearly, she signed out " _what were you thinking,"_ her hand angrily pointing to her head when she got to the " _think_ " in the statement. When she looked back at the dirty blonde man, he seemed to understand, uncomfortably shifting in his seat. "She has a condition and has eighty percent hearing loss. She was supposed to wait for me so I could sign out what you guys were saying, but she got impatient."

"And you are?" The other man in the office asked. It was then that Devin actually took a good look at him. He had hair that was to be expected of a lawyer, significantly shorter and darker than his companion. While his counterpart's hair was long enough to have Devin questioning whether it was work appropriate, this man had the subtle beginnings of a beard that had her questioning the same thing. The most noticeable difference between the two was, however, the red-tinted glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose. She was able to deduce from the walking stick resting in the corner of the room that he was blind and instantly felt a small relaxation in her shoulders. So, he'd understand where her mother was coming from. Good. That might be able to help them. It was when he cleared his throat expectantly that Devin even realized he's asked her a question.

"Oh, sorry," she said, setting her back on the ground and throwing her jacket on the back of the chair. "I'm Devin Hayward, her daughter." She was about to stick her hand out to shake his, a habit her father had made sure to instill in her when she was younger, but hesitated and decided against it. She'd only feel like a fool if she did. "And you would be... Nelson or Murdock?" she questioned, gesturing back and forth between the two lawyers. She caught the corner of the brunet's lip lifting in a smirk and narrowed her eyes.

"Murdock," he replied, "Matthew Murdock." He held out his hand, and Devin was thankful that he'd been the one to initiate the contact so she wouldn't have to. She shook his hand firmly, probably surprising him with her strong grip before reaching out to the dirty blonde— Nelson, she mentally recited— and shaking his hand as well. "This is my partner, Foggy Nelson." Devin raised a brow at the name but didn't say much of anything else. "Your mother mentioned Brett Mahoney from NYPD. He referred you to us?"

Devin was quick to sign out the question to her mother, who nodded. Her mother opened her mouth and spoke in a shaky voice that was quieter than the two lawyers were expecting. Devin was used to hearing the small voice. Her mother liked to use her voice as much as possible, even if she couldn't hear much of it anymore. But Alice Hayward didn't seem to realize just how low it was when she actually spoke, which usually led to Devin signing at her to speak up. Since it was such a small office space, Devin didn't have to. "He did. I mentioned what was happening and he suggested I visit you two," Alice said in her small voice.

"And what _is_ happening, Ms. Hayward?" Nelson asked. Devin signed out the question to her mother, listening to her answer. It was mostly the same. Ex-husband who had not only cheated on her but had also cheated her out of nearly everything except custody of Devin was trying to get back into their lives, figuring he could threaten his way back in. Alice was leaving out bits and pieces, but Devin filed the explanation in the back of her head. She'd add in whatever Nelson and Murdock needed to know later. "Why do you think he wants back into your life, Ms. Hayward?" Nelson questioned after the explanation Alice had given him. Devin didn't need to sign this question to her mother, scoffing and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Long story short," she begun, watching as Nelson looked over at her and Murdock's head tilted in her direction, "I was engaged last spring." Nelson's eyes flickered to her left hand, where a ring was noticeably missing. "Needless to say, the wedding didn't happen. But the news made my father have an epiphany and suddenly he wants to be back in my life. He knows my mother won't have it unless I tell her it's what I want, and what I want is for him to stay as far away from me as he can physically get. Antarctica, if he has to. So, he's taken it upon himself to threaten my mother that if she doesn't let him see me, there will be consequences. Didn't go into specifics of said consequences, but apparently it was enough to frighten my mother into asking Mahoney for a lawyer recommendation so we can try and get a restraining order."

"That's not fair," Alice suddenly mumbled from beside Devin, narrowing her eyes at her daughter. "Sign out the words so I know you aren't embellishing. She's so dramatic." Murdock let out a slight chuckle at Alice's words. Devin rolled her eyes and relayed the story through sign language, watching as her mother's eyes followed her hand movements. At the end of the signing, Alice didn't correct Devin's explanation. "She told it right," Alice admitted, nodding her head in satisfaction.

"Well," Nelson said after a few moments, "what we can go ahead and do is get you the paperwork for a temporary restraining order for civil harassment. We can meet as soon as you'd like once the paperwork is filled out and we'll go from there. For the threats he's making, we could probably get a temporary for about 200 feet and then try and up it when we file for the long term restraining order." Devin signed to her mother what Nelson was offering, and Alice nodded as he searched through the manila folder for the correct paperwork. Devin reached for it before her mother could when he offered it, eyes drinking in the words on the page to make sure it would actually do what he said it would. "Did you want to make an appointment for when the paperwork's done?"

Before Devin could answer him, Matthew Murdock was reaching out a hand to gesture for Nelson to stop moving, as the latter had been about to stand from his seat. "Hold on just a moment," Murdock said quietly before his head turned in the general direction Devin was sitting. "We should print out another set of paperwork for a second temporary restraining order."

"Why?" Devin questioned, crossing her arms over her chest again. "He isn't coming after anyone else but my mother." Alice was looking back and forth between Devin and Murdock with a confused look on her face, so Devin was quick to sign out what was happening so she could get caught up. But instead of the confused expression Devin expected, her mother eagerly nodded her head in Murdock's direction. She heard Nelson mumble something under his breath, something along the lines of " _Ms. Hayward's nodding her head_ " so Murdock could understand what was going on.

"You mentioned that you were the one he was trying to get to, Ms. Hayward," Murdock mentioned, gesturing to where he assumed Devin was sitting. He ended up gesturing between herself and her mother, but Devin knew the attempt was meant for her direction. "I think it would be a good idea to get you a temporary restraining order, just in case your father's threats reach you. After all, you're the reason that he got back into contact with your mother after hearing about your engagement."

Devin knew it was irrational and that he didn't mean it in the way she took it, but she wanted to jump across the table and sock Matthew Murdock in the face. She was probably going to Hell for thinking about punching the shit out of a blind guy, but his words burned inside her. _She_ was the reason her mother was having to go through this. _She_ was the reason her slimy, disgusting, despicable father was back in her mother's life, reminding Alice of everything she'd lost when the divorce had been finalized. Devin's jaw twitched once, twice, a sure sign that she was trying to hold back the scream she wanted to let out. When she responded, her voice was cold as ice. "I really don't think that's necessary, Mister Murdock," she said. She noticed him sit up straighter at her tone, the trace of a smirk gone from his mouth. "And please," she added, "call me Devin. Ms. Hayward is my mother."

He smiled, but it was forced. The kind of smile that told Devin he didn't appreciate the tone. "Forgive me, I'm simply in the habit of calling my clients by their surnames."

"And that would be fine," Devin mentioned, "if I were a client. I see no reason for me to file a restraining order. I'd just like to make sure my mother gets one."

The finality and frostiness of her tone had Murdock nodding. "Alright. It was just a suggestion. Foggy can go ahead and schedule that appointment for when you get the paperwork filled out." Devin glared at him, angry that he couldn't even see the withering look she was giving him as he reached behind him for his walking stick and stood from his chair. The glare melted slightly when he felt around the office with his cane before walking out of the room, but the anger and hurt was still there. Nelson was looking anywhere but the two of them sitting in the room, trying to stay out of the obvious awkward tension residing there.

It was broken when her mother was suddenly turning to her. "What's happening, baby?" she asked, and Devin felt the rest of the tension in her shoulders deflate. She just wanted her mother to be safe. She was sick and tired of her father ruining the good things in her life. Since Devin had a clear shot of her mother, she didn't bother signing the next words, knowing that her mother would read her lips well enough if she enunciated clearly.

"We're going to get him out of your life, Mom. I promise," Devin said, reaching out and grabbing her mother's hand.

"You'd better have gotten the temporary restraining order papers, Devin Sierra Hayward," Alice whispered in a stern voice. Devin just laughed, shaking her head. "I don't care if he's out of my life. I want him out of yours until you decide otherwise." Devin reached forward with her other hand and grasped her mother's hands in her own, squeezing them tightly in a comforting notion. Alice's eyes were frozen on Devin's face, trying to gauge her expression. "Don't be stubborn, baby," Alice said, reaching up a hand to lovingly pat Devin's cheek before she was pulling away and reaching for her purse, which she had discarded onto the floor at the beginning of the meeting. "Now, let your mother buy you coffee while you go an apologize to the nice lawyers helping us out." Devin opened her mouth to protest, but Alice shook her head. "Just because I can't hear what you're saying doesn't mean I can't see that mean streak across your face." Devin scoffed but reached down for her own purse and shrugged her jacket over her shoulders. Alice was walking by Foggy Nelson, giving him an appreciative smile.

"Thank you so much Mister Nelson," Alice said in her quiet little voice. Devin watched how he reacted closely, something in her melting at the small smile he sent towards her mother. "And forgive my daughter," Alice added, not hearing the little laugh Devin let out at the statement. "I'll be outside, Sierra," she mentioned offhandedly, walking out of the small office. Devin could hear the door to Nelson and Murdock law offices and saw the small smirk Foggy Nelson was giving her.

"Sierra?" he questioned, the beginnings of a laugh on his lips.

Devin rolled her eyes. "My father thought they were having a boy and any argument my mother made was useless. She calls me by my middle name to spite him." She could see his partner on the other side of the office, with a fancy machine she wasn't quite sure the function of was. "Look, give me a price estimate and I'll handle the cost. I don't want her to have to pay a penny." The implied " _this is my fault anyway_ " wasn't lost on Foggy Nelson, who gave her a grim smile and nodded his understanding. "Also... sorry, I guess," she mumbled bitterly. She hated apologizing. It was one of the more annoying traits she had gotten form her father. Her mother had used to say Oscar Hayward was stubborn as a mule, and Devin was three times more stubborn that that. She held out her hand to shake his, and his hand enveloped her own, his handshake less firm that hers but still respectable. Another thing her father had taught her to look out for, she supposed.

Devin stepped out of the cramped office and back into the main room. Murdock was still there, innocently pressing buttons on the machine. Devin noticed the small raised dots on each of the buttons and assumed they were Braille. "Mister Murdock," she said, watching as he turned and faced her general direction, his cane somewhere behind him. She closed the distance between them and didn't bother to hold out her hand unless he did. "Thank you for helping my mother with this." He simply nodded at her, his gaze burning through her from behind the red-tinted glasses. She wondered how it was at all possible to feel so exposed to a man who couldn't see. "I told your partner to get back to me with a price estimate. For now, should we go ahead and schedule that next appointment?"

He reached for a manila folder sitting next to him and ran his fingers across the page inside. She saw more little Braille dots littering the page, disappearing every time he ran his index finger over a cluster of dots. She'd always found Braille interesting and had even considered teaching herself how to read it when she was younger. But that had been before her mother had lost her hearing and after that, learning sign language had been a priority for the both of them. In the end, it just made it easier for them to communicate with each other. "How does Wednesday sound? Eleven-thirty?" he suggested. Devin ran the date and time through her head, committing it to memory. It was around the time she usually took her lunch, but if she put in an extra hour at the end of the day, Ellison wouldn't mind her taking a longer lunch than usual. Plus, it was Monday and two days was plenty of notice for Ellison.

"That's perfect." The apology was on the tip of her tongue but for some reason, it wasn't coming out and forming into the words she knew she needed to say. His lips curled up at the corners in an annoying little half-smirk that assured her that he knew she was struggling to follow her mother's request and apologize to him. "I... apologize for my manners. I'm just protective of my mother. I don't want her to have to deal with him any longer because he has some delusions of being a good father." She wasn't sure why that little slip of information had been easier to confess than an apology had been, but she sagged in relief when Matthew Murdock nodded his head in understanding.

"I guess I should apologize as well. I didn't mean to offend you, Ms. Hayward— _Devin_ ," he corrected just as she opened her mouth to do it for him. After his apology, the two of them stood awkwardly in silence for a few seconds before the machine behind him beeped out a signal, probably telling him that it was done with whatever it was printing. "I'll see you Wednesday, Devin."

With those words of dismissal, Devin nodded to herself and clicked her way over to the main door of Nelson and Murdock, opening it just in time to see the same blonde woman from earlier carting lunch enough for the three employees. "Oh. Hi again. Thanks," she mentioned when Devin moved out of the way and held the door open. Devin sent her a nod before moving through the open door and listening to it close behind her. Once the door was closed and she was sure none of them could hear her, she let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

She hated that in her mind, this was her fault. Logically, she knew it was her father's actions were no one's but his own, but if she hadn't gotten engaged and went around letting the Bulletin print an engagement announcement, none of this would have happened. Her mother wouldn't have to be filing for a restraining order and Devin wouldn't have to be reminded of an engagement that ended in the same fashion her parents' marriage had. Her heels clicked along the floor of the building as she made her way outside, thinking about how different her life would have been if she hadn't found out Warren had been sleeping with his secretary a month before what was supposed to be their wedding. But that had been her fault too, she reminded herself. Late nights at the Bulletin and not paying attention when she should have. She wasn't under any false illusions that she was a great fiancée, but she hadn't thought she'd deserved that kind of ending to a relationship.

It hadn't saddened her so much as made her angry. But not at Warren. He didn't deserve a sliver of her anger. No, she had been furious with herself. She'd been furious with her job, furious with her choice in boyfriend, and furious that the semi-perfect little world she'd constructed for herself after her parents' divorce had come crashing down. _After_ Devin was supposed to be composed and stylish and have her life together. Instead she was writing about things that had no importance to her, single because she'd been _cheated_ on in the most cliché of ways and had to deal with her father after promising herself she'd never give him the light of day.

"I know that thinking face," her mother said when Devin made it outside, readjusting the strap on her shoulder from her purse. Devin signed out a quick " _what face_ " before pointing her finger at the deli across the street. She knew they had shitty coffee, but her mother wasn't picky with her coffee and Devin wasn't picky with coffee that didn't cost much. Together they walked across the street and Alice told Devin her order while she went to go find seats. The deli wasn't busy, just a couple of couples loitering at tables and two guys with laptops in front of them, whispering back and forth between each other.

"Regular black coffee and regular peach iced tea," Devin ordered, slapping down a five on the counter and giving the barista the politest smile she could muster. It didn't take them long to make the drinks, handing them back to Devin so she could go to the bar and spice up her coffee how she liked to drink it. Her hands mechanically grabbed the sugar and creamer, pouring them into her coffee and mixing the liquids together with a stirring stick. As she stirred and readied another packet of sugar to put into her mother's iced tea, she heard the two guys with the laptops mumbling something.

"Closes at five... we've gotta be there by midnight at the latest... fortieth and eighth... Hell's Kitchen official bank."

Devin didn't turn to face the men, but her eyes widened as she stirred in the sugar packet. She wasn't stupid. It sounded like they were plotting some sort of bank robbery. Why they were stupid enough to talk about it in a crowded place like the deli on forty-ninth and tenth, she didn't know. But she didn't care. Because while they spoke, she saw a chance. She knew she should be a good citizen and call the police, but that little stab of selfishness hit her in the gut.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen wasn't a secret anymore. He was Hell's Kitchen resident vigilante, fighting whom he declared as evil and making sure they ended up in jail. He had taken their small little corner of New York by storm. There wasn't any news outlet that hadn't tried to get decent reports about him and try and crack the mystery of his secret identity. A journalist's wet dream, basically.

Devin's big break.

These amateur bank robbers were going to lead Devin straight to Daredevil. She knew he'd find them and show up to foil their plans like a cheesy superhero from the television shows Devin had watched as a child when she believed heroes to be real. They'd help her get out of writing about home improvement and into writing what she really wanted to cover, the gritty crime of New York and the vigilante determined to right the wrongs. She'd dreamed about this moment ever since her father had walked out of them (granted, she didn't dream about a group of bank robbers, but she was taking whatever chance she had been given and grabbing it with both hands), ever since she determined that she was going to make something of herself without her father's help.

"Sierra," her mother called. It was more of a whisper-shout, but Devin was so attuned to the low register of her voice that she heard it from her place at the bar. She capped her mother's drink and made her way over to their table, by the window like her mother always liked to be. "Thank you, baby," Alice said when Devin set her iced tea in front of her. Then, Alice smiled. "Remember when I tried to make homemade peach tea?"

Devin let the smile slip onto her face. "It was awful," she signed, laughing when her mother started to. "Too bitter and too strong." But it had been fun, making the tea with her mother. She remembered that day all too well, sitting at the table in their new shitty apartment and Alice suddenly standing. It was back when she still had only twenty percent hearing loss and Devin had simply had to raise the volume of her voice for her mother to hear. Devin hadn't known how to make tea, so she'd simply propped herself up on the counter and watched her mother go through the motions, all too happy to be the taste tester. They laughed when they made it and cried when it turned out awful. Devin hadn't pinpointed it at that moment, but they had been happy tears because even if the tea was shitty, they had done something _together_ , just the two of them and without Oscar Hayward holding their hands. It was at that moment that Devin knew she and her mother were going to be fine.

"It was fun," her mother corrected, smiling as she sipped her tea. "And you laughed so much." Alice reached over and set her hand on Devin's cheek again, this time letting it linger there. A small crease formed between her eyebrows as she stared at her daughter. "I haven't heard that laugh in a while. No pun intended." Devin rolled her eyes at the attempted joke before Alice sighed. "I just want my baby to be happy."

Devin reached up and pulled her mother's hand away from her face, holding it in her fingers and gripping it to reassure Devin that her mother was here and happy. "I am happy, Mom," she said out loud this time, making sure to mouth the words carefully so her mother could read her lips. Then, she pulled her hands away and signed, " _here with you_."

"I'm not going to be around forever," Alice said, and Devin looked at her with alarm. "I want to make sure you have someone around. Jasmine doesn't count," she interjected before Devin could refute her. "You haven't seen her since college and talk to her twice a month. I'm talking about someone you can really depend on."

"I can depend on Jasmine," Devin signed out with a small laugh. That wasn't what her mother wanted to hear and she knew it. She wanted someone that fit into the category Warren used to. She wanted Devin to have a boyfriend she could dump her feelings on so she wasn't bottling them up in her self-prescribed solitude. "I don't need to depend on anyone except you," Devin signed, watching her mother roll her eyes but smile all the same.

"And you always can," Alice replied. "But you rarely do. I guess I just want to know you have someone to lean on if I ever can't be there."

It was that statement, that stupid statement, that was replaying in her head hours later when she was back at her own apartment. In her excitement (she really shouldn't have been excited about a bank robbery), she had already stripped out of the uncomfortable pencil skirt and dark blouse to trade them in for dark black leggings and a dark black sweatshirt. But her mind was stuck on that stupid phrase. It was only half-past eight according to Devin's dim cell phone clock, three and a half hours from midnight and when her life was going to change for the better. She'd prove to Ellison that she could do the hardcore crime articles with hard evidence and cold facts. She took another glance at her phone. Eight thirty-four. Shit.

Somewhere, deep deep _deep_ down, she knew this was a terrible idea. She was only counting on Daredevil to show up. She had no idea if he'd actually be there or not. Maybe there was a more important murder that was going to happen at the same time and she would be stuck the lone witness of a bank robbery. But God, she had to _try_. The Devin she wanted to be was supposed to be fearless and intelligent and get away with plans like the ones circulating throughout her head at that very moment. But her hands were shaking and she was starting to let the doubt seep in. What if he didn't show up? She'd be dead within seconds.

It was a life-endangering game of risk and reward. She could risk everything and she'd either end up six feet under or finally doing what she'd been wanting to do since she was little.

Determinedly, Devin shoved her feet into black sneakers and sat back down on the couch, ready to play the waiting game. She checked her phone clock again. Eight forty-five.

Figuring she had more than enough time to let her mind wander, her thoughts drifted back to her mother and father. She'd wanted the bastard out of their lives since he'd shown up at the Bulletin and demanded Ellison to see his daughter. It had been a messy display of Devin all but pushing him out of the office and slamming the door in his face, only reopening it when she was sure he'd left. That had gotten her caught between a rock and a hard place with Ellison. Either she could talk to her father and make sure he knew it was unacceptable to show up at her work and demand to see her, or she could ignore him and he'd continue to show up and embarrass her in front of her coworkers, undermining her professionalism in Ellison's eyes. That hadn't been the last straw. The last straw was when he thought he was actually entitled enough to storm into her mother's new apartment complex and try to get to Devin through his disabled ex-wife. She'd never seen red like she had in that moment, when everything was shaded in muted flames of anger and she had half a mind to break her father's nose in.

He'd never bother Alice again. He could bother Devin until he wore her down, until she was so sick and tired of refusing him that she just let him in, but Devin forbid herself to let him do the same to her mother. Not when he'd already taken so much of her and crushed it under his palms.

Nelson and Murdock had better make sure that temporary restraining order became permanent. Devin stood from her couch, grabbing a beer from her fridge and hitting the cap against the corner of her counter to pop it off. She took a swig from the bottle, holding it by the neck when she returned to the couch. Her entire body felt like it was electrocuted, nerves all lit up and thrumming with energy. She was antsy, tapping her fingers on her knee and fidgeting with a loose thread on her leggings. She was nervous, about the restraining order, about what she was stupidly about to go do, about everything. She took another drink of her beer and rubber her temple with the hands that weren't occupied by the bottle. Another glance at her phone. Nine eleven. Her knee bounced up and down as she reached for the remote, turning on the television and hoping to silence the thoughts in her head screaming at her to call the police and forget this stupid plan.

"The country is in shock and denial concerning the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the leaked information about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s evil counterpart, HYDRA, who have been infiltrating S.H.I.E.L.D. since the Second World War; the war, in which Captain America defeated Johann Schmidt." The news popped up on her screen. The fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't exactly new news. It had been a full year since the fall and three since the Battle of New York. Still, Devin was mesmerized by the news reporter, eyes drinking in every detail of the screen. "However, many have considered this time period after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. as a time of HYDRA Uprising, with many agents of HYDRA still in hiding or on the run. This news is critical as The Avengers fight overseas in Sokovia in what will be a battle for the history books. More information about the Battle of Sokovia can be found on our website."

Devin watched more of the news, taking sips from her beer bottle as the night dwindled down and stretched on to the midnight hour. When she checked her phone the next time, she was happy to see that more time had passed when she was watching television than she'd thought. The dim numbers on her phone read _11:22_ when she looked down. It was about a ten minute walk to the bank from her apartment, and she wanted to make sure she had enough time to scope out the area and find a good enough hiding spot the ensured she would remain hidden but also be able to get a clear shot of Daredevil when he came to stop the robbers. Grabbing her keys, phone, and digital recorder, she turned the lights off and left the television on so the apartment wouldn't be completely pitch black when she got back home. She flipped her hood on over her hair and walked through the hallway of her apartment complex, bypassing the elevator and moving directly towards the stairs to make as little noise as possible. Her feet padded on the stairs lightly as she moved down the three flights, pushing open the door of the lobby as quietly as she could manage.

The New York night was cool on her skin, her breath coming out in little puffs of condensation when she breathed out of her mouth. Her heart was screaming at her to turn back, to return to her living room and just forget about the task she'd given herself. It was her head that was pushing her feet, thinking of the possibilities. She'd risk everything and get the reward. She was determined to see this through.

"Dear God, I hope you aren't taking a break from vigilantism tonight," she said, a silent prayer to Daredevil wherever he was in Hell's Kitchen. Her feet carried her through alleyways and down streets until she was standing at fortieth and eighth, eyes trained on the bank. It didn't look like it was about to be the victim of a robbery, but when Devin saw the glint of silver from someone's bumper, she hid behind the nearest building she could and watched from the shadows. There were four men that piled out of the car, large duffel bags in their hands for what Devin assumed the money would go into once they actually managed to get into the bank. "Please show up," she mumbled under her breath before she was trying to silently move closer, staying in the shadows so she wouldn't be seen. Devin reached her hand in her sweatshirt pocket and clicked the little button on the recorder she had hidden in there. She didn't dare say anything, however. She just continued to scoot closer and closer, hidden by darkness.

"In and out, Keats," one of the men said. They were all pretty similar in size and stature except for the one who had spoken. He was smaller in terms of height but looked like the strongest of the group, muscles straining against the black hoodie he donned. "You fuck around and get us caught, that's on you. No flair for dramatics tonight." Devin watched as the man she assumed to be Keats nodded his head at the man's demands. "Now give us the play by play."

This was apparently Keats's time to shine. He pulled out his phone and read something on it. "Layout's the same as Atlantic for the most part. Grab as much as you can, don't be stupid about it. I'll be out here waiting in the car. With the alarm system this place has, I'd say you have approximately three minutes before police start coming, which means you've got four minutes to get the job done. If you aren't back out here in four minutes, I'm leaving your ass here."

One of the men pulled out cutters that looked big enough and strong enough to cut through the chains locking the doors of the bank together. She gulped, thinking about how easily it would be to stab those cutters through someone's abdomen. For a split second, she turned her feet and started to tell herself to run away and not look back, but she forced her soles back into place and made herself stand her ground. _Risk and reward_ , she reminded herself. If she pulled this off, it would be worth it.

Though, she'd be a lot more assured if Daredevil would get his ass away from whatever he was doing and _get there_. Where the hell was he?

The men sprang into action then, three of them making their way up the stairs of the bank in a silence Devin had never been able to master. The one with the cutters looked around behind him three times just to be safe before he sliced through the chains on the doors as if they were a piece of cheese. Then, the shortest of the group looked around once more before opening the door. Devin could hear the shrill shriek of the alarm from where she stood. Her hand shot for her recorder, bringing it up to her mouth as she watched the bank light up red from the flash of the alarm system.

A mistake that she hadn't known she'd made until it was too late.

"Four men, all around six feet tall except for a man about five foot two. One identified, but only by what must be a last name or nickname. Keats. Hell's Kitchen Bank. Daredevil isn't here yet." She took her finger off the button briefly and hissed out, " _Jesus, why isn't he here_ " before returning to the recorder when she heard police sirens start up. "Police sirens starting at approximately twelve-ten, estimated arrival twelve-fourteen. Still no sign of Daredevil." Devin struggled to put her recorder back in her sweatshirt pocket, eyes trained not on the bank but on the vehicle and man parked outside the bank.

Only, he wasn't there anymore.

Then, she heard it. More so, she felt it, pressed against the back of her head and as cold as every soap opera or crime show she'd watched had made it seem. "Hands up, lady," she heard from behind her. She heard it again when it made the distinct clicking sound, letting her know that this was serious and there was a one hundred percent chance she was going to die outside of Hell's Kitchen's Bank. She tried to be brave, standing there with a gun pressed against the back of her head, but her breath was getting shorter and shallower and her hands were shaking. "Don't make me say it again," the voice ordered, and Devin jumped at the closeness of it, slowly raising her hands above her head as her heartbeat sped up in her chest, so fast that she thought it was going to pop out of her chest and start running away. "Now you're gonna answer some questions for me, and if you don't respond, there'll be a bullet in your head faster than you can blink." She could hear the police sirens in the distance, but she knew that if she didn't follow orders, she'd been dead well before they arrived.

Devin Hayward's life was most certainly _a goddamn mess_. And it was most certainly about to end.


	2. Two

Sorry for the late chapter, but this year has been hectic with school and a change of job. I knew I wanted this chapter to be written in a way I was proud of, and not just pumped out, so I hope you guys like it. Tell me what you think!

* * *

"Turn around. If you try anything, I'll shoot you in your goddamn brain," Keats demanded. Devin could hear her heart racing in her chest as she kept her hands up and slowly turned, resisting the pumping adrenaline in her body that was telling her to run and get as far away from the man as humanly possible. Her eyes locked onto the muzzle of the gun, where a bullet would shoot out of if Keats decided the quivering girl with the knowledge of his name wasn't worth it. Being so close to a gun had tears welling in her eyes. She tried to keep from blinking so the tears wouldn't fall, which turned out to be an easier feat than she thought it would be. With her eyes locked on the gun, she found herself unable to blink even if she wanted to. "Good. Let's start with some easy ones. How the hell did you know we were going to be here?"

"I heard two of your guys talking about it today," she whispered, her voice breaking in the middle of her sentence despite how much she wished it wouldn't. She wanted to be calm and confident, not a shivering little mess that was currently possessing her. She wanted to have an aura that badass women always gave off in the television shows she watched. She wanted to look Keats dead in the eye and _dare_ him to let off a round of bullets. But this wasn't television, and Devin knew that the second he decided to put a bullet in between her eyes, there was no recovering from that. Death was _final_. And though she'd been raised believing in Heaven, she wasn't sure she would make the cut anymore. Not after wishing her father could be dead. Even without having been to church since she was in the single-digits, she knew wishing death on someone wasn't exactly a one-way ticket to the pearly gates.

"Where?" Keats prompted. Devin opened her mouth to answer his question, preferring blurting out her location than getting a bullet in the brain, but stopped herself. Those two men had seen her with her mother at the deli. She didn't think they'd gotten a good look at either of the Hayward women's faces, but what if there was a sliver of a chance that they had? People were sick. It wouldn't surprise her if they went after her mother instead of her, just to prove a point. And what if they remembered that Devin had been signing to her mother? They could easily put together that her mother was deaf. That would make Alice Hayward an easy target.

Keats, who was once holding the gun a couple of inches away from her face suddenly brought it closer, until the cool metal was touching her forehead. Devin's eyes closed on instinct, and even she couldn't stop the lone tear that rolled down her cheek. "I won't ask again, lady. Where?"

"O-on the corner of forty-ninth and tenth," she managed to stutter out. It wasn't the specific location of the deli, and she hoped enough people passed by the men as they went to the deli that they wouldn't know specifically who Devin was. "Please, I won't tell anyone." She didn't even register the words coming out of her mouth.

"Hand over that recorder. Now." Devin didn't hesitate, gripping the recorder even tighter than she had been before the gun was pressed to the back of her head. She handed it over, her fingers shaking uncertainly as she moved, and she jumped when Keats grabbed at it impatiently. He immediately threw it on the ground, stomping on it with his foot. The motion caused the gun to back away for just a second and Devin took a shaky breath in, gathering as much oxygen as she could in her lungs. She felt it when the gun pressed back against her head. "Does anyone else know?" he asked.

"No," she responded instantly. At least this answer was closer to the truth than her last answer had been. "No, just me."

"So no one will know to come find your body if I shoot you right here and now?"

The words actually coming out of his mouth made the moment that much more real. Devin wished she could go back to her shitty apartment, watching the news and drinking bottom-shelf beer that tasted awful. Because at least in her shitty apartment, she was safe. A small, pesky part of her, froze, ready for the moment the bullet would slice through her skull. Ellison would be down a reporter, she thought to herself. But would he really care, when he had so many others? Her father would have no reason to torment her mother anymore. With Devin gone, Alice would be free of her ex-husband's insane sense of paternal responsibility that had suddenly been acquired. Devin expelled the air from her lungs, eyes slipping shut, saying her last goodbyes in her head. Because, really, if Daredevil hadn't shown up now, when would he?

"Not quite."

The voice was tinged with something familiar, like a distant memory in which Devin had heard it before, but the sound of it was so shocking that her eyes flew open. There, standing a few feet away from the two of them, was Daredevil. His new costume wasn't nearly as attractive as the all-black combo Devin had seen splashed across the newspapers, but she really didn't care what he was wearing if he was saving her. He was staring at the two of them, head tilted as if listening for something. "How about you let her go? The police are on their way. You really want to add a homicide charge to a robbery charge?"

Devin's breath left her lungs when Keats suddenly wrapped his arm around her throat, cutting off most of her oxygen. "Get the fuck out of my way," Keats demanded. Devin felt the gun press against her temple, and her breath hitched as much as it could crushed underneath his arm. "Or she'll get a bullet in her head."

"Put the gun down. Last chance before I start getting violent." Devin wondered if Keats heard the way Daredevil's voice lowered dangerously towards the end of his sentence. Probably not, considering she had barely heard it over the sound of her racing heart, amplified by the fact Keats was cutting off her air flow.

Keats simply clicked the safety trigger off, and Devin closed her eyes again. She never prayed, but in that moment she begged whatever god was out there to keep her mother safe. Her mother would be heartbroken, but at least she would be alive.

The gun let out a bullet with a bang that made Devin jump. She had expected it to hit her temple and knock her dead, but it didn't sound loud enough to be aimed at her head. That, and the fact she wasn't dead yet, was a giveaway that Keats hadn't aimed for her. Her eyes flew open just in time to see Daredevil dodge the surprise bullet Keats sent his way, maneuvering around it with ease as if it was nothing more than a minor annoyance. While Keats's attention was on Daredevil, Devin brought her leg back with enough force to send Keats releasing his grip on her throat with an impressive string of colorful vocabulary. Her adrenaline spiked as she started booking it in the other direction, figuring Daredevil could probably handle himself better than she could. Before she got far enough away, another bang shot through the street, this time making its mark.

When she turned around, Daredevil was holding his bleeding shoulder. And Keats looked ready to deliver another shot, seemingly having forgotten about Devin running away.

 _Run, run, run, run_ , her mind screamed at her. The guy was a freaking superhero. He probably got shot all the time. She should run, shouldn't she? But...what if that had been her, shot with a bullet? Wouldn't she want someone to help her?

Knowing she was severely going to regret it, she blindly reached for something she could use. Her hand grasped onto the lid of a trashcan, and though it wasn't perfect, she gripped it tightly and used all her force to swing it wildly until it hit the back of Keats's head.

He fell to the ground, swearing loudly at her, but it was enough time for Daredevil to get back on his feet and deliver a kick to Keats's hand, efficiently kicking the gun a few feet away and probably breaking the bones in the process. "Make sure he can't grab that gun!" Daredevil barked at her. Devin jumped at the order, but raced towards the gun and picked it up, clicking the safety back on so she wouldn't accidentally shoot herself. Keats was faster than Devin gave him credit for, since he was directly behind her when she turned to give the gun to Daredevil— because _fuck_ if she was keeping that gun in her hand for longer than it needed to be. She yelped and managed to dodge out of the way of his _unbroken_ fist, ducking just barely. While she was down, Daredevil delivered another kick to Keats's body, this time landing in the rib area. She watched Keats fall on the ground and quickly straightened her body back up. Then, remembering she still had the lid of the trash can in her hand, brought it down on his head, effectively knocking him unconscious.

"How many more men in the building?" Daredevil demanded. Devin wished he had waited a little to bark orders at her, considering she was still a little dazed from her near-death experience. "Hey! How many more men?" he snapped when Devin didn't answer in time.

"Yeah, hold the fuck up for one second while I recover from having a _gun_ pressed against my head." She tried to calm her breathing. "Th...three more. The po...police will be here any min...minute."

He didn't acknowledge her statement. He moved towards the car, where the three men would be as soon as they booked it out of the bank. "Stay there. I'll take the tree of them out easily enough."

"I'm not really s...sure you're in a pos...position to be barking orders at m...me. I did help you with K...Keats." Devin really didn't know why she was arguing. Staying where she was meant she didn't have to deal with the other three men, and that was something she definitely wanted to avoid. But, ever her father's daughter, she'd inherited the annoying little trait of never being able to let something _go_. And with the way the Daredevil was speaking to her was something that he wasn't going to get away with. "Acknowledgement would be nice!"

"How about you acknowledge the fact that I'm trying to save your life?" The three men were hurtling out of the bank now, and Daredevil wasted no time in snapping another order for Devin to stay there before he was off and after them. From her position, she could see how easy it was for him to take them down. It was obvious Keats was the brains behind this operation. A couple of swift punches, some impressive dodging of a knife, and all Daredevil walked away with was a probably bruised torso from a kick that had been well-aimed. Devin's adrenaline was still racing when Daredevil tied them all up with rope from the back of their car and made his way over to her once more. "You need to stay here and tell the police what you saw. They'll want that recorder, too."

"How did you... no, I don't want to know. Shit," she said suddenly, spotting the blood coming from his hand. He looked down at the cut, as if noticing it for the first time. "Um, are you okay? It looks like it might need stitches."

"Talk to the police. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention anything about me."

"Um, that's kind of impossible? They aren't going to believe I did that," she said, gesturing to the three men tied up. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'll take all the credit for knocking this piece of shit unconscious," she kicked Keats's body for extra emphasis, "but they won't believe the rest."

A muscle in his jaw clenched. "Fine. Then I'd appreciate if you didn't tell them anything you _know_ about me."

Devin threw her hands up in exasperation. "I don't know anything about you! All I know is that I... I was about to be... oh Jesus Christ, I can't breathe." The reality of what had happened hit her like a train. She could have been killed. Not even a peaceful death either. Her mother would literally see pictures of her brains scattered across the street. Devin felt her breaths coming out in short pants, never drawing enough to actually provide her lungs with oxygen. "Oh God." She sank down, leaning against the nearest wall for support. "Shit." The tears came to her eyes involuntarily. The gun. His fucking voice. His grip on her neck.

"You need to breathe," Daredevil demanded. She wanted to quip something about him being Sherlock and having no shit, but she couldn't make the words come out of her mouth. "Breathe. In. Out. Inhale once, count to five, exhale. Calm your heart rate." He stopped moving, almost as if he was hesitating, before his hands were on her shoulders. There would be blood on the hoodie she was wearing, but she couldn't bring herself to care about that right now. He held her, anchoring her to not just the wall behind her, but to the Earth. Like she was floating somewhere around outer space and he was keeping her down where she belonged. "I know it's a lot. But breathe."

She drew in a shuddering breath, not quite enough to give her a normal amount of oxygen but enough to get her to stop freaking out, at least. She didn't care if it was unprofessional or even if he cared, but she brought her hands up to his wrists and held on, clutching like he was her only hope. And, well, he kind of was. "One," she said softly, taking his advice to start counting. She could hear the sirens, getting closer and closer by the minute.

"Two," he encouraged. "Three."

"Four."

By the time the broken 'five' left her lips, he was gone.

The police veered around the corner, lights flashing and sirens blaring so loudly that Devin had to cover her ears. Her hand was covered in Daredevil's blood, so she quickly wiped it on her hoodie. She wanted it off her skin, wanted the reminder of this night gone. "Hands up!" she heard the officers say, and she immediately raised her hands above her head. The officer who ran up to her was a familiar face, at least. She recognized him as the officer that had recommended going to Nelson and Murdock for the restraining order. "Ms. Hayward?" he asked stupidly, blinking as if he couldn't believe it was her in front of him.

"Hey Officer Mahoney," she said weakly, letting out a chuckle. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Want to tell me what the hell happened?"

So she told them. She told them about hearing the guys in the coffee shop (and accepted the dark look he gave her when he realized she had known about the robbery and hadn't called it into the station). She told him about following their trail, ready to get a story and cocky in her assumption Daredevil would show up earlier. She told them about hitting Keats over the head. But when it got to the part about why the other three goons were tied up, she felt her throat dry up.

"That courtesy of you, too?" he asked, gesturing to the three guys who were slowly being lowered into police cars. They had already dragged Keats's unconscious body to the car, and she was strangely thankful she didn't have to look at him.

"Um... no. Daredevil ended up making an appearance after all."

Officer Mahoney looked at her like he didn't believe her for a moment, but then sighed. "Yeah, that sounds like him. Any of that yours?" he gestured to the blood. "We've got an ambulance ready to go."

"It's not necessary. The blood isn't mind. It's Keats's. I just wanna go home."

He sighed. "It's protocol the paramedics at least check you out." She opened her mouth to complain, but he shot her a sharp look. "I'm not nailing your ass to a wall for not calling in the robbery, so you won't make a fuss about being checked out by the paramedics, yeah?"

Shame flowed through her like a fucking river. "Right. Right, yeah, that's fair." He nodded and gently grabbed her shoulder, leading her to where the paramedics seemed to be waiting for her arrival. The entire inspection was over within minutes. They checked to make sure there was no blood that was actually hers, checked to make sure the bruises quickly forming on her throat weren't going to cause her any problems, and deemed that the entire event had left her more shaken mentally and emotionally rather than physically. Once the paramedics released her to Officer Mahoney again, she shrugged off the mandatory shock blanket they'd given her.

"Let's get you home," he said. For a horrifying second, she thought he was going to make her get into the backseat of his police car, but he rolled his eyes at her shocked expression and opened up the passenger side door. She lowered herself into the car and almost immediately locked the door. She could see Keats and his goons being put into police cars, Keats's head lolling to the side because he was still unconscious. "You ever talk to those lawyers I suggested?"

"Hmm?" Devin hummed out, not processing Officer Mahoney's question. She was still staring at the police car that Keats was being dragged away in.

"The lawyers? Nelson and Murdock?" he questioned. When Devin didn't answer again, he sighed. "Miss Hayward, he's not going to get to you. We're taking him in for a long round of questioning and he'll be charged with not only holding you at gunpoint, but the robbery as well. He's not getting out anytime soon."

"Wilson Fisk was arrested more than once. He escaped," she whispered.

Officer Mahoney's face hardened. "That was because Wilson Fisk had moles in the police department that have since been taken care of. I promise you, Keats is going away for what he did, and he isn't getting out for a while."

Devin didn't let herself believe him. She was scared to get her hopes up. "He... he saved me."

Sensing that they weren't talking about Keats anymore, Officer Mahoney nodded. "Yeah, he's been known to do that." He must have seen something on her face that he didn't like (appreciation maybe?) because he sighed. "Look, I'm not saying it wasn't a good thing he did for you tonight. But he's not a hero, alright? He's a stupid vigilante that isn't letting the police department do their jobs. And you shouldn't go looking for him again, _especially_ just so you can write an article."

"But —"

"I'm friends with your mother. She's always been a really nice lady. I'd _really_ like to not have to tell her that her daughter was murdered."

It was with that sentence that Devin's actions became real. They finally clicked into place in her head. She could have died. She was seconds away from death. If Daredevil hadn't come swinging in on his metaphorical rope, her mother would have woken up to news that her daughter had been blasted through the head. And then what was the point of it all? What was the point of trying to keep her mother safe from her father when she was lying in front of Hell's Kitchen's bank, half her brains scattered across the street? There was _no_ point. And Devin felt like the biggest fool in all of New York.

Officer Mahoney let out a small sigh when he saw the first lone tear travel down Devin's cheek. She hastily moved to wipe it away, not wanting to show weakness, but another one followed shortly. "It'll be okay, Miss Hayward," he said kindly. He pulled up to her apartment complex and tried to give her a small smile. "Look, what about you try and take tomorrow for sleep only? I'm sure your boss will understand if you take tomorrow off. I could talk to him if you'd like."

Devin shook her head immediately. "No, no, it's fine. I need something numbingly normal tomorrow to keep me from freaking out." She gave him a small smile of thanks before he unlocked the doors and she grabbed the handle to hers. "Oh, I did talk to those Nelson and Murdock lawyers. Interesting guys."

He let out a short laugh. "I've known Foggy Nelson for a while. They able to help you out?"

"Yeah, except Matthew Murdock got a little too ahead of himself and kinda pissed me off. Is it wrong to want to hit a blind guy?" Office Mahoney let out a deeper laugh at that, shaking his head as if to ask what Murdock had done. "He wanted me to file a temporary restraining order as well, but I told him no dice. I just want their focus to be on my mom."

Officer Mahoney shrugged. "I say maybe consider it. It doesn't sound like a bad idea to me."

She didn't bother replying, just opened up the passenger door and stepped out into the cool New York air. "Thanks, Officer Mahoney. I appreciate it."

"No problem. Do me a favor and next time you hear about a crime, report it."

"I can definitely do that." She waved him off and dug her keys out of the pocket of her jacket. Her heart started to thump erratically as she made her way up the stairs and into her apartment, sounding dull and ringing in her ears. She swore it was going to jump out of her chest. She remembered the feel of the gun against her temple and the feel of Keats's hands around her throat.

Devin decided to push down the anxiety she felt with what she did best. Drinking.

There were three more beers in the fridge and Devin decided she was going to drink them all. Grabbing them in her arms, she moved to sit in front of the couch, leaning her back against the bottom of the piece of furniture and glued her eyes to the television she'd purposely left on. And then, with the skill of a twenty-one year old on her birthday, Devin downed the first bottle of beer. And then the second. And then the third.

The couch was a fine place to sleep tonight. So Devin curled up and managed to fall asleep to the sounds of the news, not even bothering to pick up the beer bottles. Everything, she decided, could wait until tomorrow. Everything.

* * *

"Any reason you're here today? Any reason at all?" Ellison questioned when she walked through the door the next day. She looked a little worse for wear, but there was a scarf wrapped around her neck to hide the bruises and the cuts she'd sustained were easily covered with makeup. Devin ignored him, rolling her eyes at his dramatic speech as she took her seat at her desk. "Devin, go home. No offense, but I don't want you here."

"Jeez, glad I'm not taking offense to that," she retorted dryly, unloading the things from her bag onto her desk. Regrettably, her hands were shaking. She clenched them into fists to try and stop their movement. "How'd you find out?"

"A very interesting call from a Brett Mahoney. He says that you were held at gunpoint last night. Only, that can't be, because someone held at gunpoint wouldn't come into work the next day." Devin ignored him, pulling up the article on potted plants she was supposed to be writing for the next edition of the paper. Ellison grunted something insulting under his breath before he slammed his hand on her monitor, obscuring her view from the screen. "Devin, go home," he tried again. She shook her head.

"You don't get it, Ellison. I can't go home. Every time I go home I just sit in silence and my thoughts go back to it. At least here I can keep my brain focused on something else." She had tried sleeping last night, but to no avail. Thoughts of not only Keats and his goonies but of Daredevil kept coming back to her. She had that stupid meeting with Nelson and Murdock the next day, but hopefully by then she'd be recovered enough to not make a complete fool of herself in front of her mother's lawyers.

Ellison flung his hands up aggressively, scoffing as if Devin had something wrong with her. "Fine, stay here, but don't be angry with me if you start having a post traumatic stress disorder episode."

"Don't be an insensitive dick," she said, knowing he liked her enough to not be _too_ offended at the statement.

"Tell you what, stop typing like a madwoman," he said, placing his hands on hers. She hadn't realized they were still shaking. "Go get coffee for us. I'll buy."

"You want me to be your coffee girl? Should I be insulted?" Devin raised an eyebrow.

"I'm insulted that you're still sitting here. Please leave. I'll text you my order." He handed her a crisp twenty dollar bill and moved away from her, walking towards the door.

"I'm keeping the change!" she called back in an annoyed tone, crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child.

"I expect nothing less!"

Devin angrily huffed as he moved out of view, angrily slamming the backspace button on her keyboard. Then, deciding she probably shouldn't be rough with a literal _thousand dollar_ piece of equipment, she sighed and grabbed her purse that she hadn't even fully gotten the chance to set down before Ellison was already up her ass about being in today. _Stupid Mahoney_ , she cursed him underneath her breath as she stood and situated her scarf more firmly around her neck. _Stupid Mahoney and his kindness. Couldn't he have just dropped me off at home and not given a shit about what happened to me after that?_

The street was suspiciously empty as she crossed it, heels clicking on the cement. She didn't know where she wanted to go (definitely not the same coffee house she'd heard Keats and his group of assholes in the previous day), so she settled on the first coffee house she saw. Luckily, living in New York, coffee places were easy to find. She stepped inside, letting her body adjust to the warm air as she stepped up to the counter. Pulling out her phone, she saw Ellison's order of black coffee with three sugars and raised her eyes to scan the menu for herself. When it was her turn to order, she stepped up to the counter. "Large black coffee with three sugars and a vanilla iced coffee please."

"Practical order, Miss Hayward," a voice came from her left. She barely contained a screech as she jumped and turned to face none other than Matthew Murdock, the annoying lawyer she'd been planning to avoid until Wednesday. He smirked, as if he heard her jump. "Sorry."

"You're fine. And it's Devin," she said, reaching in her purse to grab the twenty Ellison had given to her. Before she could, Murdock was placing a twenty on the counter and speaking his own order to the barista, paying for the three drinks before Devin could process what was happening. She frowned, walking away from the line so she wouldn't hold it up. She saw him move his cane around, taking in the walkway to make sure it was clear before he took a step towards her. "You didn't need to pay for it," she said bitterly. She didn't want him thinking she was some kind of charity case.

"It was my pleasure. My own apology for earlier this week."

She raised her eyebrows even though he couldn't see it. "Last I checked, Nelson and Murdock were taking payments in the form of apple pies and doughnuts. I doubt you've got money to spend."

He laughed instead of being offended, like she somewhat wished he had been. "Something tells me I can afford fifteen dollars worth of coffee." They called Devin's name then, and she grabbed his coffee, figuring that even if he annoyed her, she wouldn't make him feel around until he could find it. "Thanks," he said in a surprised tone, like he wasn't expecting her to help him. She shrugged, forgetting he wouldn't get the motion as she grabbed her two drinks. "You working today?" he asked, his tone indescribable. She felt like she was being questioned by the police when he spoke to her. It made her uncomfortable enough to put a decent gap between them as they maneuvered around the people in the coffee house.

"Always do," she said, reaching forward to push the door. Before she could, his hand shot forward and pushed it open for her, like she was incapable of doing the simple task. She whirled around to demand he stop being so chivalrous (it was pissing her off because he annoyed her) when her eyes zeroed in on his hand that was holding the door open. There were a series of shitty stitches there, like he had tried to do them himself. Her eyes narrowed on the injury. "Rough night?" she asked suddenly, walking out of the door he offered. He raised his brows in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"Your hand. Looks pretty banged up."

A muscle in his jaw tensed, like he wasn't expecting the observation and he wasn't used to people pointing it out. "Incident in the office yesterday. Turns out working with office equipment isn't the best course of action for a blind guy." The joke did nothing to soften the slightly tense look on his face.

"Right," she said briefly, unconcerned with his explanation. Her eyes strayed to the injury once more. It looked suspicious, like something he couldn't have gotten from office equipment. The gash was too deep for any kind of office supply, unless he had been trying to cut with scissors. She doubted a stapler would cause the damage his hand was sporting. "Office equipment. Not the best course of action for a blind guy," she echoed.

His jaw was still clenched, and jut out defiantly, as if daring her to say something. She didn't bother, simply taking a sip of her coffee and smirking a little.

"I suppose I'll see you Wednesday, Mr. Murdock."

"You will. Consider that second restraining order."

"Still unnecessary," Devin retorted, foregoing a goodbye to walk away with a small bit of her pride and a large amount of dramatic flair. As she walked along the streets of Hell's Kitchen and back to her office, she decided she had a lot of research to do on Matthew Murdock.

And maybe while she was at it, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

* * *

" _I'm glad you're seeking legal help. No offense, but your dad is kind of a dick._ "

"None taken," Devin replied, balancing her phone between her ear and shoulder as she poured the beef packet into the instant ramen she had so obviously slaved over. If her mother could see her eating the kind of shit Devin was shoveling into her mouth, Devin was sure Alice would scream at her. Well, speak as loudly as she could since her voice was almost always at a decibel lower than everyone else's. She managed to grab the bowl of ramen in her hands as she walked to her couch, where she had set up camp with a glass of wine and her laptop. Her Google search showed a crappy little picture of the outside building of Nelson and Murdock, but she hadn't gotten to her in-depth research before Jasmine called.

" _And your mom is okay through all of this?"_ Jasmine asked. Devin plopped down on the couch and threw her feet up on her coffee table, turning down the volume of her television, which was spewing some more shit about the Avengers that Devin didn't care about. " _I mean, I know it's gotta be hard on her._ "

"She wants me to get a restraining order too," Devin said, taking a bite of her ramen and cursing when it burned her mouth. Jasmine, who had been her roommate in college and knew what the burning of one's mouth by way of Top Ramen sounded like, ignored the squeak of pain.

" _And you damn well should. Your dad is a creep, Dev. A certified creep_."

"I'm not giving Murdock the satisfaction," Devin muttered to herself as she took a swig of her wine to try and soothe the burning of her tongue.

" _Who the hell is Murdock? Is that the creepy pizza delivery guy that keeps trying to get your number?_ "

"No, I don't order from that pizza place anymore." She tested the ramen again, deciding it was still too hot. "Murdock is the annoying and smug lawyer that officer recommended for Mom."

" _I thought the said the lawyer was nice?_ "

"His partner Nelson is nice. Murdock is an asshole. He... smirks too much."

 _"Let me get this straight. You're refusing a restraining order against your awful father because you don't want to go through a lawyer who..._ smirks too much?"

"It sounded like a better reason in my head." She heard Jasmine let out a choking kind of laugh on the other side of the line, like Jasmine couldn't believe Devin was being so stupid. "Look, I've got to go figure out how the hell I'm going to pay for said smug lawyer, so I'll call you later, okay?"

" _Fine. Promise you'll think about the restraining order. Not for the annoying, smug asshole lawyer, but for me, your amazing best friend. And your mom_."

"I promise," Devin replied, clicking off the phone call and tossing it to the end of the couch, so she wouldn't be distracted by the small device. She was on a mission to prove something. What the hell she was trying to prove, she didn't know. But she was going to prove it.

The first (and most Google searched) thing she found when she typed in his name was the article on his dad. Devin didn't remember the specifics of Jack Murdock's death, but she remembered her father prattling on about the death of _Battlin' Jack Murdock_ and his death that shortly followed. As she read about the young Matthew Murdock that lost his father, she begun to wonder if looking him up was a good idea. When her Google search took her to the article about him losing his sight as a young boy, she definitely felt like the lowest of lows of scum. But she was a reporter, and reporters were innately curious. And then there was the cut on his hand, nearly in the same place Daredevil's cut had been. She should know, she had seen it close up on both men.

 _He helped you escape Keats and his gang, and you're looking him up_ , her inner conscious argued with her. Devin knew she was contradicting the phrase "never look a gift horse in the mouth" (the gift being that she wasn't dead and the mouth being that maybe, maybe Matthew Murdock was the one that saved her), but she couldn't just let it go.

The rest of the stuff about him was general. Law degree from Columbia, worked at Landman and Zack, opened up Nelson and Murdock with one Franklin Nelson. There were gaps, though. Where had he gone when his father died? She couldn't find any record of him in any orphanage or anything. He hadn't just disappeared in those years.

Deciding searching Matthew Murdock was useless, she decided to instead search Daredevil. This search proved more fruitful, with more articles popping up than she knew what to do with. There was that stupid new red costume (which Devin thought was gaudy and obnoxious but if it helped him fight, who was she to judge), but she was in search of before Daredevil took off, when he still fought with a literal black blindfold over his eyes. Pulling up a crappy photo the Bulletin had gotten, showcasing only the left profile of his face, she pulled up a picture of Matthew Murdock. It seemed there were only about three to exist of him as an adult, and even one seemed outdated because it was a graduation picture from Columbia in which he was smiling and had an arm around a bohemian looking Nelson.

But there was that same annoyed tick of his jaw in both pictures. And it was then that Devin knew.

"Holy shit," she said, her fingers stilling on her keyboard. "Holy shit." Did she just figure out Daredevil's identity? Her mind raced with a million possibilities. Daredevil was like the literal God of Hell's Kitchen journalism. Anyone who had any information on him besides the way he easily beat his foes would be rich. Filthy rich. This would launch her career past where even she wanted to go. She would have enough money to hire the fucking attorney general of the United States to represent her mother's restraining order.

Okay, maybe not _that much_ money, but still.

She downed the rest of her wine and ramen, staring at the two pictures with beaded eyes. Then, she grabbed her phone from the other side of the couch and dialed the number already pulled up on her screen.

" _Law office of Nelson and Murdock. I'm afraid we're closed right now_ ," the bright and sunny voice of who Devin knew to now be Karen Page answered.

"Hi, yeah, I know it's late, but I've got an appointment tomorrow and I really need to talk to Murdock." Devin rubbed the bridge of her nose, pinching to help protect her head from the migraine that was sure to be coming from speaking to Murdock.

Karen was silent on the other end of the line, but she sighed. " _He's here, but if he doesn't want to talk right now, then you'll have to wait until tomorrow, okay_?"

"Fine. Tell him it's urgent."

Karen humphed on the other side of the line, apparently not liking being told what to do. However, Devin heard the sounds of swishing, which led her to believe Karen was getting Murdock from his office. Her thoughts were confirmed when she heard the phone being picked back up from whatever Karen had set it on. " _Nelson and Murdock. I'm correct to assume this is Miss Hayward_?"

"Devin," she replied automatically.

" _Right. What can I do for you? I do remind you that we're technically closed, so I can hang up if what you have to say isn't urgent_."

Devin felt her blood boil. "It's pretty fucking urgent, you absolute dickwad."

" _That end call button is looking more and more appealing, Miss Hayward._ "

"Am I on speaker?" Devin asked, not bothering to correct him on the use of her name this time. If he wanted to be a dick, so be it. It was making her decision about revealing who he was look pretty damn appealing. He muttered a "no" that Devin took as a sign to continue. "Do they know? Page and Nelson. Do they know?"

" _You'll have to be a little more specific, Miss Hayward_."

"Do they know you're the fucking Devil of Hell's Kitchen?" she hissed.

It was silent on the other end of the line. The silence was long enough for Devin to question if this was the right thing to do. This was a guy who had proven multiple times that he wasn't above hurting anyone to get what he wanted. And if he decided what he wanted was to hurt Devin, there would be no stopping him. But the reasoning part of her brain couldn't stop herself from arguing that he had saved her from Keats.

 _"I don't have time for this nonsense, Miss Hayward_." But his voice was icier than it had been previously, tenser. Devin knew she had hit the nail on the head.

"Sure you don't. Then explain the cut on your hand," she argued back.

" _Office accident. I thought we'd discussed this_?"

"I was almost killed last night, you absolute piece of shit. I can't even look behind me without wondering if I'm gonna have a gun pressed to my head. I just want answers. Don't lie to me. I'm just asking you to be honest. Because if you aren't, I have half a mind to write an article about how a blind lawyer-turned-vigilante saved me last night." It was silent again, and Devin wondered if he was debating all the ways in which he could murder her without anyone finding her body.

A soft chuckle met her ears, but it was one of those wry ones that let Devin know he didn't find anything about this situation funny. " _You sure do have a habit of butting in where you don't belong, don't you_?"

"It's a hobby of mine," she replied back in an annoyed, sarcastic tone. "After the appointment with my mother tomorrow, where you will be the dictionary definition of kind and polite so you don't get on my very last nerve, we are gonna talk."

" _This isn't exactly a conversation we can have out in the open_."

"See, I don't really give a shit. You'll accompany me to the diner on 42nd. They have a Braille menu." And with those parting words, she angrily pressed the end call button. Then threw it back on the couch for good measure. And then, to prove that she wasn't bullshitting around, she pulled up a new document on her laptop and slammed down the title on the keyboard.

 _THE DEVIL OF LAW_.

"Damn it," she angrily muttered when she reached for her glass of wine and remembered it was empty.


End file.
